Thanksgiving and Hope for the new year

The year is coming to an end. By March I didn't think I would make it through each day. Since my second hospitalization of the year, they were back to back (in fact the Doctor who was treating me is no longer practicing medicine. I can tell you why,) I have been doing much much better. I have enjoyed this season and just about all that goes with it.

I miss my daughter now that we live 4 hours away instead of just an hour and a half. I've been working on a book and would go back to her state and visit and we would have hot cocoa and lorna doone cookies, watch a movie and laugh. We always have so much fun together.

Next year I will be changing this blog. It will still be listed as Peg's Perspective, but it will be about trying to live as college students, cutting back wherever we can. might monetize it! Ha, just kidding. Hopefully I'll have some money saving tips. But there will be things that will be sacrocanct that will not go on the chopping block.

Looking back on this year I have gone from physically, spiritually and mentally ill, to physically strong and active, I have a healthy relationship with God, and my illnesses are under control. My diagnoses of Borderline Personality Disorder and Discociative Identity Disorder have been brought into question and two doctors have concluded that I do not have either of them. I have stopped seeing a psychologist.

This year we remodeled our kitchen and upstairs bathroom just in time to sell it. And now we live in a new state. I have been physically healthy enough to not see a physician after the eleven week disaster of the beginning of the year. And have not been hospitalized for mental health since March. The year improved.

This season we see a lot of runs of the movie "It's a Wonderful Life." My nephew reminded me on facebook when Clarence says to George Bailey, "you see George, you really had a wonderful life. Can't you see how it would be a shame to throw it all away?"

How many times have I struggled to not throw it away. Everyday has its struggles. But for the most part my life is GOOD! I have a wonderful husband who drives me nuts sometimes all on his own, I have a beautiful daughter and a great son-in-law. We took a trip to Colorado to stay in a cabin this fall.

I have learned that it is right to have joy. Not only is it God's will that men are that they might have joy, but it is okay to be happy about it. That sounds funny, but I'm serious. I sometimes feel guilty for feeling so good. I can be reminded in a second of people whose lives are far far worse than mine. If I dwell on that in the name of compassion (without action) all I do is bring myself down. It is good to do service and help people less fortunate. When you see someone having a hard time walking and you recognize it as what you remember feeling when your back was "out" help them by opening the door for them. If you have been in someone's shoes, you can understand their needs better. So look for opportunities. Those things bring joy. But it's okay to be happy. We each know well enough that there will be an end to that at some time, and it will come back again also. Enjoy the happiness while you have it and be compassionate to those who don't. It will be returned.

One of the greatest acts of compassion for me aside from Christ's atonement and my husband's care, mother's love, daughter's hugs and therapist's knowledge and friends' who have been in tune with the Spirit, came in the form of a nurse called Barb.

Barb worked in the psych unit and was peaceful and non-judgemental. I've known her for many years now. The last time I was in her unit was in March and I was having faith issues. I had lost 20 pounds in a month due to malnutrition, dehydration, depression, illness and stress. She was like a watchful angel. She knew me so well. She could see me struggling to get out of the deep hole that only I and God could truthfully could bring me out of. She came to my room and sat in the corner while I slept. And was there sitting in the same corner when I awoke. She didn't say much. I told her some things that only my minister, husband and therapist knew. Things that had been bottled up for 30 years, that had a strangle hold on my heart. So on top of the weight loss and illness and regular depression, I was fighting for my spiritual life and I felt very alone. She listened and didn't judge. Was not shocked by my behaviors in the past and not so at my new problem. But these "new" problems were old. I just had not dealt with them before. I swept them under the rug and pretended everything was okay. She was there.

I've often heard that when a person is grieving sometimes the best thing that you can do is listen. That was what she was doing. She wasn't just sitting there. She cared about me. She was genuinely investing her time in ME, not just a patient, a person. I have been in and out of this particular hospital probably 9 or 10 times. I even vowed not to go back due to the actions of one nurse. But I knew that I needed MY doctor this time. The one who knew my meds, not someone who decided to play russian roulet with my meds and a staff who were there for the paycheck only. I love Barb. I felt compassion from her. There have been others, many many others who have shown me compassion. But to be able to listen to me as if I were a sane person with a sick brain at the moment. I can't thank her enough. It has been months, but I'm going to send her a card.

Going into the new year I am filled with hope. And where there is hope there is everything.